4 views
Her Good Girl
Her good girl is in the house now. I don't want you to hear how my mom scold me. Stay outside our gate. It's embarassing.
She just reasonably scold me, making me realize my shoes is sooo new. And that I must not walk in the rain, telling me I should have wait for it to stop. And that shoes will easily break when soaked in water.
I havent yet realized that the glue will lose its power when soaked. I was grade school that time to fully grasp, and to raise a question, "how was that possible?"
Im good girl, I figure out every little instructions by my own, without them elaborating. Coz if I asked, I might be dismissed. No, mom will not judge me as talking back. At least, that's what I know. She will not. Just keep quiet little one, my subconscious response.
(Mom, your good girl is hurting someone at school. Her weak classmate, is her outlet of her frustrations.) Not knowing, that I was just frustrated. I can spell my name, Im good at spelling in English. But as a seven year old, I cant yet spell my emotions.
There is peace in silence. There is wisdom in listening to mom. But I havent yet grasp, that asking question is a sign of trust and intelligence. I love listening to mom's scolding, I don't want to call it scolding. I want to call it love and duty.
But my head is not in peace. There is this excitement, this thought, of bringing my red slippers at school tomorrow!
This time, mom never did hit me with slippers, with her lessons. She never did. I'm making progress now, Im too old to be hit. Im grade two now!
Don't forget! The red slippers, tomorrow!
___
Series: GradeSchool Rain
© Versifiable
acrylic painting by Mike Barr
She just reasonably scold me, making me realize my shoes is sooo new. And that I must not walk in the rain, telling me I should have wait for it to stop. And that shoes will easily break when soaked in water.
I havent yet realized that the glue will lose its power when soaked. I was grade school that time to fully grasp, and to raise a question, "how was that possible?"
Im good girl, I figure out every little instructions by my own, without them elaborating. Coz if I asked, I might be dismissed. No, mom will not judge me as talking back. At least, that's what I know. She will not. Just keep quiet little one, my subconscious response.
(Mom, your good girl is hurting someone at school. Her weak classmate, is her outlet of her frustrations.) Not knowing, that I was just frustrated. I can spell my name, Im good at spelling in English. But as a seven year old, I cant yet spell my emotions.
There is peace in silence. There is wisdom in listening to mom. But I havent yet grasp, that asking question is a sign of trust and intelligence. I love listening to mom's scolding, I don't want to call it scolding. I want to call it love and duty.
But my head is not in peace. There is this excitement, this thought, of bringing my red slippers at school tomorrow!
This time, mom never did hit me with slippers, with her lessons. She never did. I'm making progress now, Im too old to be hit. Im grade two now!
Don't forget! The red slippers, tomorrow!
___
Series: GradeSchool Rain
© Versifiable
acrylic painting by Mike Barr
